


i always feel like (somebody's watching me)

by angelsaves



Series: voyeur ot3 [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Drinking, Multi, Podfic Welcome, Sexual Fantasy, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism, consensual voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15933992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: Shane has a thing for thinking about Sara having sex with other people. They make it a reality.





	i always feel like (somebody's watching me)

**Author's Note:**

> betaed by croissantkatie

Shane has this thing. A fetish, maybe, but he thinks that might only be the right word if it's the only way he can get off, and he can get off a lot of ways. It's just that one of his bulletproof _things_ is hearing about Sara's past experiences, and her fantasies, and her hypothetical scenarios. Some guys get jealous when their partners talk about exes, but Shane isn't one of them.

"Tell me how to get you off the best," he'd said, the second time they had sex, and Sara had gotten all shy before admitting that one of her exes had done this thing with her tongue that made her go crazy. Just the image made Shane have to think very cold and unsexy thoughts; then he tried the tongue thing, and it worked even better than he'd imagined.

Anyway, Sara is sexy, and he likes not being the only person who knows that. The idea of watching her with someone else, seeing her enjoying herself from the outside, knowing that she'll come back to him when it's over... it's a lot.

"I'm running out of naughty stories," Sara says one day, out of the blue, when they're lying on the couch half-watching a movie.

"Yeah?" Shane says, not sure what she's getting at.

She takes one of his hands in hers, tracing the veins on the back with a fingertip. "You talk a good game about seeing me with other people, Madej," she says. "Is it just a fantasy thing, or would you like to see it for real?"

The thought is like a bolt of lightning straight to his cock. "Jesus Christ," he says. "Are you serious?"

"I'm serious about suggesting it." She taps his fingernails, one by one. "Obviously, I'm not going to go out and fuck somebody if you're not into that. But if you were..."

"I am," Shane says. "Like... a lot." He squirms underneath her, and she laughs, low and devilish, shifting her weight so her ass presses more firmly against him. "Did you have, uh, a candidate in mind?"

"Of course I do," Sara says, rolling her hips maddeningly. "I think you're going to like it."

"You do have the best ideas," he agrees. His hands wander to her hips, and he thinks about pulling her hard against him, but waits.

"Ryan," she says. Shane gulps, and Sara cranes her neck to look at him. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" he repeats, trying to buy himself a little time. "If I'm honest..."

"Please."

"I've thought about him that way -- like, a lot." That's an understatement. For the past couple of months, whenever he's fantasized about watching Sara fuck a dude, that dude has been one Ryan S. Bergara.

"I had a feeling," Sara says. "You two have _mad_ chemistry."

"It's not about me," Shane protests. "It's about you, and getting you what you want. Even if that's him." He kisses her neck, grip on her hips getting a little stronger.

"What if what I want is for you guys to share me, and then maybe make out a little?" Sara says. "If we're talking about fantasies, here."

"Oh ho," Shane says drily. "Now we're getting kinky."

Sara snorts. "Ooh, yeah, kissing is _real_ kinky. Would you do it, though?"

"I think I could handle a little lip action from Mr. Bergara," Shane says. "Assuming all parties are consenting."

"Hmm." Sara sounds pleased. She settles her hands on top of his, over her hips, and presses down firmly. "Now that you've got me all riled up, are you going to put your money where your mouth is?"

"I could do that." He grinds up against her, and she gasps, wriggling out of her leggings. She's still got her panties on, but Shane can deal with that; he pushes the thin strip of cloth out of the way and slips a fingertip into her folds. God, she's wet; he can smell it, rising off her, and his mouth waters.

"Yeah, just like that," Sara says breathlessly. "Just - with your dick instead?"

Shane laughs. "Your wish is my command." He unzips his chinos and pulls his dick out of his fly, sliding the head inside of her. "Better?"

"Oh, God, yes." She pushes his hands back where they were. "Come on, show me what you're made of."

He nibbles her neck a little, thrusting up against her, and murmurs, "Snips and snails and puppy dog tails."

"That's -- oh, God -- that's not sexy," Sara protests, but the way she's clenching around him, muscles fluttering, lets him know that he's doing _something_ right. "Tell me something good."

"Okay," Shane says. "You're gonna fuck Ryan, and it's going to be the hottest thing I've ever seen. Maybe he'll do you like this, or maybe he'll flip you over with those arms and just -- go to town."

"Ohh," Sara groans. "That's -- that's good."

"Yeah, make him use all those muscles for something other than looking good," Shane continues. "He'll fuck you so good -- and then, when you're all orgasmed out --"

"Then he'll turn those muscles on you," Sara says. "Push you up against a wall or something, oh, fuck --" She breaks off with a little whining noise and comes.

"Yeah," Shane agrees, "just like that," and with another few thrusts, rough and off-rhythm, he's joining her, biting low on her neck and coming inside her.

"Mmm." Sara levers herself off his lap, rearranging her clothes, and bends down to kiss him before heading to the bathroom. "Remember, he's coming over for dinner tonight!" she calls over her shoulder.

"Jesus _Christ_ ," Shane says to himself. Then he gets up, tucks his dick back in his pants, and opens the window; it reeks of sex, and that might not be the best opening gambit for getting Ryan to fuck his girlfriend.

What is his _life?_

So Sara places the pizza order, and Shane surreptitiously Googles "normal ways to ask your best friend to fuck your girlfriend." Unfortunately, that seems not to be a problem most people have; all of the results are about how to get your best friend to fuck _you_ , and that's not the game here. Instead, he gets out the blender and the tequila. "We're having margaritas!" he announces.

"Excellent," Sara says, giving him a high-five, and that's how, two hours later, the three of them end up sitting on the floor of the living room, half drunk, half just punchy, laughing at something, Shane can't remember what.

Sara grabs for the empty container of rimming salt (heh, rimming), which is shaped like a small sombrero, and plunks it on her head ceremoniously. "I'm the birthday girl," she announces, "and that means I get what I want." She nudges Shane with her elbow and gives him a solemn nod.

"Of course," he says, even though it's not her birthday, or even her half-birthday. "What do you want, birthday girl?"

She points at Ryan. "Him," she says.

"It's -- is it your birthday?" Ryan asks, eyes darting between Sara and Shane. "I thought it was in October. Are you -- how drunk are you?"

"It's her birthday if she says it is," Shane informs him. "Plus, are you seriously turning down sex?"

"I'm -- are you okay with this?" Ryan's voice gets a little higher on the "okay," almost cracking. "Are you guys serious right now? Am I being set up, or something?"

"Yeah," Sara says, managing to look remarkably sober in spite of the tiny plastic hat perched on her curls. "We planned this, sort of. Not in the actual plan kind of way, but in the talking about me wanting to have sex with you and Shane wanting to watch kind of way. Are you up for it?"

"Jesus." Ryan runs one hand through his hair, with the side benefit of showing off his biceps. "I mean, yeah, of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"You might be weirded out by me wanting to watch," Shane points out, in the interest of fairness. "Or the part where she wants us to kiss, after."

"As long as Sara's into that, it doesn't bother me," Ryan says. "Wait, what?"

"I said I wouldn't be scared off by a little lip action," Shane continues. "Still interested?"

"I mean... yeah," Ryan says. "I'm -- I'm not bothered by _lip action_."

"Cool," Sara says, and climbs into Ryan's lap, kissing him -- God, filthily, the wet flash of their tongues visible from Shane's spot against the arm of the couch. One of Ryan's hands comes up and tangles in the hair at the back of her neck, knocking the little sombrero free and pulling her head back, and he kisses his way down her throat.

God, it's everything Shane's ever wanted. He watches them avidly, not even touching himself, just digging his fingertips into the carpet and drinking in the sight of the two of them. Ryan runs his hand up under the back of Sara's top, and she reaches down and pulls it off over her head, along with the bralette she had on underneath.

"Wait," she says, and Ryan sits back, looking up at her. "Let's really give him a show. Move your leg -- yeah, like that." Now they're in profile, and Shane can see the way Sara's nipples are pressing against the white cotton of Ryan's V-neck, the faint sheen of spit left on her neck from his kisses, the bulge of Ryan's cock in his jeans.

"Happy birthday to you," Ryan sings, off-key, "happy birthday to you," and Sara laughs, tucking her forehead against his. "Wait, is it your birthday or Shane's?"

"Both," Sara says. "We're twins." They both turn to look at him, then, and Shane has to press the heel of his hand to his dick at the zing of pleasure that sends through him, the idea that not only does he get to see this intense, intimate thing, they actually want him to.

"Happy birthday, dear both of you," Ryan sings, "happy birthday to y--" Sara cuts him off with a kiss, and he trails off into a moan. Her hand finds its way to Ryan's dick and squeezes, and Shane can't help but do the same to his own. His dick is hard enough to hammer nails, and it jumps in his grip like it's happy to get a little attention, finally.

"Bedroom," Sara says, breaking the kiss with a soft, wet sound. "There are condoms there, and also a bed."

"Those are some of my favorite things," Ryan says. His eyes are dark and wide, and his mouth is all red from kissing Sara, and wow, Shane really didn't think he'd be looking forward to the part where he got to kiss Ryan himself this much, but it looks like tonight is full of surprises for everyone.

In the bedroom, Shane settles into the armchair while Ryan and Sara kneel on the bed, kissing like it's going out of style. "Jesus, Sara," Ryan says. "Do you like --" He cups one of her breasts, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"Yeah," she says, "use your teeth," and apparently Mr. Bergara doesn't need too much instruction there, because in a moment, she's gasping and clutching at his back. Shane feels like he's developed some kind of eagle vision, like he's zooming in on the sight of her flushed-dark nipple between Ryan's white teeth.

"Mmm," Ryan says, then, "Can I eat you out?" His hand is laid low on Sara's belly, almost possessive, and it sends a delicious curl of warmth through Shane -- he likes to touch her there, too, and now Ryan's doing it.

"God, yes, please," she says, half moan. Ryan pushes her backwards a little, to get access to her pants, and she moans again. "Your muscles, fuck!"

"Oh, you like that, huh?" He shoves her down by the shoulders so she bounces against the bed, and she nods, biting her lower lip. "Good." Ryan pulls Sara's leggings and panties down and hauls one of her legs roughly over his shoulder -- the one furthest from Shane, giving him a dirty, gorgeous look at her cunt before his head blocks the view. God, they're good at this.

Shane focuses on Sara's face. Her mouth is twisted in a way that would suggest pain if he didn't know her so well, and her eyes are closed -- then she opens them, looking right at Shane, and they crinkle at the corners. "Oh, _Ryan_ ," she says, and that's it, Shane has to get his hand on his dick again before he _dies_.

"Mmm, _mmm!_ " Ryan's using one hand to finger Sara, and the other is tracing little patterns into the skin of her inner thigh; Shane can see the goosebumps rising there as he starts to jerk himself off, dry and rough like he's getting away with something.

"Yeah, oh, fuck, Ryan --" Sara is a little noisier than usual, saying actual words instead of a jumble of sounds, and Shane's not sure whose benefit that's for, his or Ryan's, but either way, it's working for him. "That's it, just like that, _oh_ \--"

Shane gets to watch her come apart, then, around Ryan's fingers and against his mouth, arching up off the bed, toes curling, and, God, she's gorgeous. He's the luckiest man in the world.

Sara catches her breath while Ryan sits back on his heels. "Condoms are in the table on the left," she says, waving vaguely in that direction. "You ready for this, Bergara?"

"I was born ready, Rubin," Ryan says, reaching for the drawer and taking out a condom. "What about you?"

"I could go for some fucking," she says lazily, letting her legs fall open. Her cunt is still all pink and shiny from Ryan's ministrations, and Shane wants to taste it.

"Well, I'm feeling a little overdressed." Ryan pulls his shirt off over his head, then shimmies out of his shorts and boxer-briefs, and. Well. That's a lot of Ryan Bergara at once, all tan and muscle-y. Shane's mouth goes dry, and Sara's must too, because she licks her lips.

" _Well,_ ," she says. "Good evening, sir."

"Good evening, madam," Ryan says, and gets back on the bed. "How do we want to do this?"

"Hmm." Sara pushes up on her hands. "If you do me from behind, then..."

"You like that?" Ryan asks, rolling on the condom and looking at her.

 _Yes_ , Shane wants to say, because that surprised him too, when she told him, but it would ruin the whole effect.

"Yeah, that's why I suggested it," Sara says. "I like the whole, hmm... effect, shall we say?"

Ryan glances over his shoulder and catches Shane's eye. Shane goes hot all over, his fist squeezing tight around his dick. "Yeah, I get it," Ryan says.

"Just, you know -- manhandle me into position, big guy," Sara says, and, oh, God, he does, flipping her over, taking her by the hips, getting her under him and shoving inside. "Oh -- oh, yeah --"

"Yeah," Ryan sighs, his gaze meeting Shane's again. Shane bites down on a groan, watching the two of them, the sway of Sara's breasts, the clench of Ryan's hands on her hips, oh, _fuck_. He jerks himself faster, precome slicking the way now, and looks at the way their faces change as they fuck; Ryan's gets softer, Sara's more intense. Her eyes stay closed most of the time, long lashes fanned out on her cheeks, but every so often she opens them and looks directly at Shane. Ryan... Ryan almost never looks away.

Shane doesn't know how long Ryan lasts -- long enough to get Sara off again, at least, moving one of his hands from her hip to her clit and rubbing her off with strokes just barely this side of too hard, before he snaps his hips and groans and comes, finally closing his eyes. That's when Shane can't resist anymore: he rockets out of the chair and presses his mouth to Ryan's.

Ryan makes a wordless sound, kissing back sloppily and with a great deal of enthusiasm, and Sara gives Shane a little love-bite right where his shirt rides up, pushing out from under them. "Oh, man," she says. "That's the stuff."

"Fuck," Shane says, pulling back and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "That was... that was amazing."

"Happy birthday to all three of us," Ryan says, "huh?"

"Best birthday ever," Sara agrees, and Shane has to kiss her for that, too.


End file.
